


Obfuscation of Self

by roxylalondestrider (laPamplemousse)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: A little bit of edging, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Future, F/M, Hacking, Heterosexuality, Homosexuality, Institutionalized Oppression, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Self-Discovery, Sexual Fantasy, Smut, Tongue Piercings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2017-12-03 07:33:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/695813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laPamplemousse/pseuds/roxylalondestrider
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The year is 2426, or 415 P.C. (Post Condescension). Earth is ruled by a corrupt alien queen called the Condesce, (or Her Imperious Condescension) and has been for the past four centuries. Her totalitarian rule has changed Earth completely, as she tried to mold humanity to be like her own nearly extinct species. She’s destroyed all record of life before her rule, and no one questions her authority for fear of death. </p><p>Roxy Lalonde is a hacker trying to find answers about humanity's past and how to take down the Condesce once and for all.</p><p>Dirk Strider is infatuated with his best friend and ends up losing himself in their relationship. </p><p>Together with their friends Jake English and Jane Crocker, as well as some outside help, they’ll try to end the Condesce's rule. Along the way, they'll end up finding out more than they were looking for—about Earth’s history, their own pasts, and themselves. Theirs is a story about love and loss, and love after loss. </p><p>Will they save humanity from being enslaved by an evil alien queen? Or will they fail, dooming themselves and the rest of the world to a horrible fate?</p><p>(I changed this but it's still cheesy--forgive me, I'm tired.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic and definitely my first smut. 
> 
> I REALLY want feedback so please let me know if you read it and if you like it, or if you have any suggestions!
> 
> NOTE: I recently edited the first few chapters a bit, so go back and read those again if you've already read them.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is really short, sorry. I also don't know that much about hacking so if you see any inconsistencies, please let me know!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: Made some changes 7/16/14 (sorry it's been so long)

It’s 3:42pm. You’ve lost yourself for a moment, enjoying the gentle warmth of the sun on your face, your eyes are closed and there’s hint of a smile at the corners of your lips. You can’t remember the last time you felt the sun on your skin. You can’t even remember the last time you went outside. You get up and walk over to the window, placing both hands on the glass in an attempt to absorb some of the sun’s heat. The sky is clear and blue, and for once you see no trace of the Condesce’s fleet hovering overhead. 

After your short reprieve, you sit back down in front of your computer. Long lines of code snake across the screen, blank white text slithering across an inky black abyss. Something’s not right—it hasn’t been right. The problem could be anywhere, a single wrong keystroke in a sea of text. You’ve been through hundreds of lines of code, your eyes scanning hours and hours worth of work, but it’s no use. You know the mistake is there, lurking, laughing at you maybe, an extra bracket or a forgotten semi-colon just waiting to be found out. He may have evaded you for now, but you’ll catch him eventually. You always do.

You stare blankly at the screen, no longer searching, your eyes streaked with red and drier than desert sand. You’re tired. No, scratch that. You’re fucking exhausted. You’re so tired you feel like you’ve been punched in both eyes—not that that’s happened to you before or anything. You feel like you’ve got the worst hangover in the history of hangovers, though you haven’t had a drink in over a month. Your body is suffering from such fatigue it’s like you haven’t slept in weeks, and that’s a pretty accurate assessment of the situation. 

You’ve spent the last few months trying to hack into the Condesce’s mainframe to access her secret files. You’ve hit a lot of snags and pitfalls along the way—she uses a lot of alien programming that you’re not familiar with. You also suspect that she’s got some alien superpowers that enhance her programming abilities, making her encryption nearly impossible to crack. Your days as of late consist of trying endless combinations of codes in all of the programming languages you know, and doing research on the alien languages that you don’t. 

Right now you’re working on a sequence that should let you access remote servers where you hope to find more information about alien coding. You’ve just closed the last bracket and executed the code. The screen goes blank for what seems like forever, then an incredibly long error message pops up telling you that basically, you failed—badly.

 _Okay, that’s enough of that. I should try to get some sleep._ But as soon as you go to log off, you get a message from your best friend Jane. You’re always in the mood to talk to Jane, despite her misplaced affections for you. 

gutsyGumshoe [GG] began bothering tipsyGnostalgic [TG] at 3:45

GG: Hey Roxy! <3   
TG: jane   
TG: hey   
GG: How’s the hacking going? Making any progress?  
TG: no :(  
TG: the batterwitches alien haxxor skillz r proving to b better than mine   
GG: I’m sure that’s not true Roxy!  
GG: By the way, please stop calling the Condesce “Batterwitch”! I don’t even know where you got that term!   
GG: But anyway, you’re the best “haxxor” I know!  
TG: jane u don’t kno any other haxxors do you  
GG: No...but that doesn’t mean you’re not still the best!  
GG: And I don’t just mean the best “haxxor” ;)  
TG: ...  
TG: oh noes  
GG: You’re just so darn smart, and pretty, and funny...  
TG: jane  
GG: Yes Roxy?  
TG: weve been over this jane  
GG: :( I know, Roxy, I know. I guess I just can’t get it through my thick skull!   
TG: janey, you know youll always b my bff  
TG: but im a heterosexual & i have feelins for a boy  
GG: Dangnabbit. I know.   
GG: I just don’t see how such a thing could be possible.   
GG: I mean for one it’s ILLEGAL.  
GG: And for another it just doesn’t make any sense!  
TG: jane im well aware that my sexual preference is considered illegal and wrong by the batterwitch and her minions  
TG: but shit if that matters to me  
TG: ive told u before that it didnt used 2 b this way  
GG: Roxy, do you really believe all that phooey that you read on those obscure websites?   
GG: It’s ridiculous for you to think that heterosexuality used to be legal, not to mention being the norm!  
GG: If any of that were true, it would be in our history books!  
TG: jane all the old history books were destroyed  
TG the battwerswitch had all the records erased  
TG: *batterwitch  
TG: except for the files that ive found tucked away on hidden servers  
GG: I think you’re just being mislead Roxy. I don’t want you to put so much stock into this.  
TG: jane i dont wanna argue w/you rite now  
TG: im increbidly tired atm  
GG: Well golly, why didn’t you say so?   
GG: We can talk later!  
GG: I just wanted to get an update on the hacking project.  
TG: 0-90pipol[‘  
GG: ?  
TG: i fell asleep at the keyboard for a sec  
GG: Go to sleep.  
TG: k ttyl janey  
GG: <3

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] ceased bothering gutsyGumshoe [GG]

You lean back in your chair and sigh. It’s unfortunate that Jane is so slow to believe anything which conflicts with her preconceived notions of the world. She doesn’t even believe you most of the time, and you’re supposed to be her best friend. You don’t even know why she has such a huge crush on you when she discounts half of the things you say as nonsense. She probably thinks it’s some huge prank you’re pulling on her. That was always her style, though, not yours. You probably couldn’t pull off a good prank to save your life—or anyone else’s, for that matter. Eventually you’ll have to sit Jane down and set her straight. You can’t keep dealing with her constant proclamations of love.

You get up from your desk and lie down on your bed, pushing your wizard plushes to one side. Frigglish jumps on the bed and puts his head on the pillow next to yours. He starts purring. You give him a pet and succumb to your exhaustion. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'll get into the heterosexuality-being-illegal thing later. I just wanted to introduce the concept here.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one's short as well. The pesterlogs are killing me, but they are such a great way to explain things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 7/16/14

The sun is hanging low in the sky, its reflection stretching across the water as if reaching out to you. You sigh and lower your shades for a moment, admiring the view. It’s not often that you’re able to see the ocean so clearly. Usually the water is full of boats offering sacrifices to the Condesce’s “pet”, but they seem to have the day off today. 

You replace your shades and bite your lip. _Today’s the day,_ you think, and you’re nervous. You’re so incredibly fucking nervous. How can one body contain this much anxiety? Your heart is in your throat, your stomach is in your chest, and you feel like you’re going to hurl. Your legs start fidgeting uncontrollably; you don’t even notice. You’re overwhelmed by the constant need to urinate. 

Your body has such a visceral reaction to anxiety, nervousness, and excitement. It doesn’t matter how your conscious mind feels about something—if there is any subconscious reason to be nervous, your body will go into full panic mode. Of course, this is very top-secret information. No one knows that you suffer from these lapses in coolness. Well, no one except you. 

TT: Dirk.  
TT: What are you doing to yourself?  
TT: You’re making us look bad.  
TT: Shut up, no one’s making anyone look bad.  
TT: Don’t get your fucking panties in a wad.  
TT: It appears that you’re the one getting your panties in a wad.   
TT: Unless you’re going commando, as you’re apt to do.  
TT: That’s such a fucking disgusting habit. You even wear the same pair of pants a few times before washing them.  
TT: If you weren’t just an autoresponder in a piece of fashionable eyewear you would understand how great it feels to have freedom for certain body parts.   
TT: Yeah I’m sure your junk gets a lot of freedom in those circulation-cutting jeans.   
TT: How else am I supposed to showcase this choice ass?  
TT: Good point. But you’re distracting us from the issue at hand here.   
TT: Why are you so nervous about this date with Jake?  
TT: You’ve spent countless hours alone with Jake. I can’t see how this would be any different.  
TT: Because it’s our first official date. Like, pick you up at 8, show up at the door with flowers, take you to a fucking fancy restaurant and then a movie kind of date.  
TT: I fail to see how the location where you will be spending time together makes a difference.  
TT: Stop being an ass. You know this is a completely different situation now.   
TT: There’s a lot riding on this okay.  
TT: ...  
TT: Bro you know how dirty that sounds right?  
TT: I seriously don’t have time for your shit okay? I’m too fucking nervous for this.  
TT: My stomach and heart have formed some unholy union and are threatening to abscond out of my motherfucking esophagus so either help me out or leave me the fuck alone.  
TT: Okay, whoa, calm down dude.   
TT: You know I was just joking around. I know how much this means to you.  
TT: After all the trouble you went to convincing Jake to even go on this date in the first place.  
TT: And his goofy ass was playing dumb the whole time like he didn’t know what you were getting at.  
TT: Still not helping. The heart-stomach mutant is currently fist-bumping my tonsils. It’s going to escape my throat any second.  
TT: Okay shit it looks like I can’t fucking help you. Go perform your ridiculous ablutions and leave me alone. 

You swallow hard in an attempt to get your heart and stomach to their proper locations, but to no avail. _What ever made me think that creating an AI based on my personality and housed in a pair of shades was a good idea?_ You seriously question whether or not you may be a bit of a masochist. _If your sexual fantasies are any indication, you most definitely are._ You’ve already put the shades down, but the snarky banter continues in your fucking head. 

You drag yourself to the bathroom and undress. You walk past the mirror and avoid looking into it. You don’t have time to give your insecurities any more free rein than they’ve gotten today. From your somewhat skinny frame, to your lightly freckled face and shoulders, to your bright orange eyes that glow like a fucking jack-o-lantern, there are a lot of things you hate about your appearance. 

As you turn on the shower you almost pull off the “Hot” knob turning it up as high as it will go. The “Cold” knob is probably rusted shut; you can’t remember ever using it. You like your ablutions to be scalding. The way the heat feels on your skin, like it’s washing away all of your self-doubts, your anxiety, your fear—it’s just painful enough to remind you that you’re alive. God, you probably are a masochist. 

The water hits your skin and the steam starts to rise, clearing your head. You take a deep breath and prepare to conquer this anxiety.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The feelings about anxiety are exactly what I go through. Also, I was really going to make this chapter long but it felt right to end it on that sentence.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I decided to continue with Dirk. Sorry Roxy, we'll get back to you later. 
> 
> This chapter doesn't have any pesterlogs, woohoo! And it's longer, yippee! 
> 
> I took a lot of showers in preparation for this chapter. It's just some cheesy feelings-related stuff. Dirk/Jake feelings stuff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know where I'm going with this. I am a little angry at myself for having all these ideas and then having to write them--this is probably going to end up being very long and who knows when we'll actually get to the things I wanted to write about in the first place!
> 
> Also I wrote this partially while watching the Oscars, partially while on some Nyquil, and partially dealing with my cat going crazy so it might not be the best.
> 
> Also, I apologize for not being able to write Jake's dialogue properly.

In the calm of the shower you almost forget why you were nervous in the first place. Your friends make jokes about your constant “ablutions”, but you could never explain to them that your frequent showers are like medication for your many neuroses. In the water and the steam you’re disconnected from everything. You can just think, alone, without the pressure of outside influences. 

After about ten minutes the shower and bathroom are completely filled with steam, and you feel a sense of not-quite serenity come over you. You inhale deeply and the vapor starts to loosen the knot that had been forming in your chest.

You start to think about the kid with the goofy smile that you’re going on a date with in a few hours. _Why do I have such strong feelings for a guy who’s such a dork?_ That’s what you first thought of him when you starting chatting several years ago. Despite your initial impression, though, you became best bros almost instantly. 

You (ironically) admired his adventurous spirit, his penchant for "fisticuffs", and his love of firearms. You mocked his (nonexistent) taste in movies, his unwavering credulity, and his antiquated speech. You found endless entertainment in his interactions with Lil Hal—you knew that autoresponder would be good for something—and you tried not to *giggle profusely at his little typed-out actions*.

The more you talked with him, the more those “dorky” things became endearing to you. You grew to love his enthusiasm, the way he could make the most boring things seem fun and exciting. You woke up every day looking forward to your chats with him. 

It wasn’t until you saw him in person that your brain realized what your heart had been feeling all along—that those feelings of friendship had always been something more. You felt a jolt of electricity course through your body when you first caught a glimpse of those hunter green eyes. He flashed his goofy buck-toothed smile and ran to give you a hug, and in those arms you knew you had fallen deep.

He moved to your city two years ago because the sea level had risen too high on his island, making it uninhabitable. He took one of the spare rooms in Roxy’s giant house on the outskirts of town. You originally worried that she would pursue her little crush on him, but of course Jake was too thickheaded to take her hints. Even if he did catch on to her feelings, you’re pretty sure he wouldn’t have felt the same. His fear of the Condesce meant he would never have tried anything as audacious as being in a heterosexual relationship. 

You take another deep breath as the anxiety starts to creep up again. _If things had been different, would he still have chosen to go out with me?_

You hinted at it for months. You don’t know how he could have missed all of the signals. _Maybe he just chose to ignore them to avoid complicating things._ You’re sure he caught you blushing every time your wrestling put you in a suggestive position, _and what is wrestling if not a series of compromising and suggestive positions?_ He caught you staring more than a few times as he opted for shorter and shorter pants. _It’s almost like he wanted the attention._

It wasn’t until a month ago that you finally got up the courage to be blatantly obvious, because let’s face it, Jake English needs something to bite him on the ass before he’ll recognize it. _I wouldn’t mind biting that choice ass of his. He’s got such a plush rump..._  
You start to feel something other than the steam rising in the hot water. _No, this isn’t going to be one of those showers. Calm the fuck down._

Jake turned eighteen a month ago. You built him a wrestling robot for his birthday. Jake was starting to become an even match for you and you didn’t think you could hide your “true feelings” anymore with him pinning you down all the time. Besides, you wanted him to have more of a challenge; you wanted him to become a better fighter. 

You programmed the brobot to be an incredibly skilled grappler, with twenty-five increasing levels of difficulty. You set the first level to be just above Jake’s capability at the time. You wanted it to be a little while before he could beat the brobot. 

Jake beat the brobot faster than you had anticipated. You were so proud of him, yet you were unprepared for the consequences of your cheesy master plan. He beat the brobot on the easiest level a week ago. As you had planned, a little door on the brobot opened up revealing a compartment with a note inside. The note read:

Dear Jake,  
Congratulations on beating the wrestling robot on level one. You are now officially better than a baby brobot. I imagine you are quite exhausted from this endeavor, so I recommend sitting down. 

I am going to tell you something that I’ve been hinting at for a long time, but you’re too fucking thickheaded to catch on. You’ve left me no choice but to put my godddamn heart on the line and be 100 percent honest with this. 

Jake English, I have romantic feelings for you. You are an amazing person and I don’t care how uncool this makes me look, but I like you. You have always been my bro but that isn’t enough for me, so I am asking you on a date. Like, pick you up at 8, show up at the door with flowers, take you to a fucking fancy restaurant and then a movie kind of date.

I know this may seem sudden to you, so feel free to take as much time as you need. I’ve waited this long to tell you, I can wait a little longer. 

When you’ve made up your mind, come by my apartment and let me know your answer. And just in case you still don’t get it, here it is spelled out for you:

JAKE ENGLISH, PLEASE GO ON A DATE WITH ME, DIRK STRIDER, BECAUSE I LIKE YOU IN A ROMANTIC WAY AND I HOPE YOU FEEL THE SAME.

Love,  
Dirk <3

P.S. The brobot has sent me a notification that you’ve beaten it, so I’ll be waiting. 

Four days later, he showed up at your apartment. You were so nervous you thought your heart would explode. He sat down with you on the couch and looked at you shyly through his eyelashes. 

“Dirk, I didn’t know you entertained such feelings for me! Why didn’t you ever say anything?” 

You rolled your eyes and went on to explain that you had indeed said something, quite a few somethings over a long period of time in fact. You told him that his eighteenth birthday just seemed like the right time for a confession of that magnitude. He smiled at you sheepishly and you could hardly bear it. 

“Jake, just tell me what your fucking answer is. I can’t deal with all these formalities.” 

“Well Dirk I’m mighty flattered that you’ve expressed an interest in me romantically! I have to say that I had never considered advancing our relationship in such a fashion, as we are such friggin great bros and all. But I have not dismissed your proposition!” 

“Jake, please. I can’t take much more of this.” 

“Oh, okay! Well as I was saying, you’ve been a bloody great friend to me. But now that you’ve expressed your amorous intentions, I’ve given a great deal of thought to us as more than just the best of bros. I think that our relationship could be improved manifold if we were to explore our options beyond best bro-ship.” 

“So is that a yes?” 

“Yes, Dirk Strider, I would be delighted to go on a date with you!” 

Hearing those words made you feel better than a thousand showers could. You were so relieved, so excited, and then…so nervous. So fucking nervous. You set a time for the date, Jake left, and you had the biggest panic attack you’ve ever had in your life. 

You spent the next couple of days trying to build a real body for Lil Hal, but your nerves kept getting the best of you. In all honesty, you’ve spent more time in the shower in the last three days than you’ve spent doing anything else. Your skin is starting to get raw from over-washing. 

_Great, now I’m going to be all splotchy and pink like a fucking baby for this date._ You step out of the shower, not actually feeling that much better anymore, and you look at the clock. _6:15. Shit, I’ve only got an hour and fifteen minutes before Jake gets here. That kid is always so fucking punctual._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now I'm considering whether to keep going with Dirk and Jake's date or check back in with Roxy? The selfish part of me wants more Dirk/Jake but I'd hate to leave Roxy hanging!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one finally has some smut! And I found a way to get some Dirk/Roxy without ruining the plot so far. This is my first somewhat sex scene in my first fic so any feedback is greatly appreciated!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this took forever to write. I've also been working on Chapter Five at the same time because...yeah I wanted to skip ahead.

You awaken suddenly to someone banging on your door and whining.

“Rooooooooooxyyyyyyyyyyyyy! Wake upppppp I need your helllllllllllp!”

 _Oh my god, I can’t even nap in peace with this kid around!_ You get up and open the door to a very distraught Jake. He’s wringing his hands in front of you and pouting like a small child who’s done something wrong but isn’t sure how to tell you. 

“Jake, what the fuck? I was sleeping! What’s so damn important?”

“Um, well, you see, the situation is that I’ve gotten myself into a bit of a pickle and I would like to request your assistance, if you don’t mind!”

“Ugggggh oh my gog Jake just spit it out I don’t have time for this!”

“It seems that I’m in dire straits Roxy. I have a rendezvous scheduled with Dirk this evening and I need to locate some swanky new duds worthy of such an occasion, and in a jiffy!” 

Your mouth flattens into a straight line as you raise your eyebrows a fraction of an inch, and you stare at him with what you hope comes off as apathy, or at least vague disinterest. No one’s really noticed before, but you have an excellent poker face. You decide to resort to snarky humor to conceal the hole that has just been punched in your chest by Jake’s recent admission.

“So you wanna borrow one of my nice dresses or somethin? They’re probably all too small for you but I can work with that. What are you anyways a size 10?” You say it with more venom than you’d intended and you hope he doesn’t notice. He blushes a brilliant vermillion and turns to walk away, obviously defeated. You reach out to stop him, but he turns back to you suddenly with a huge grin on his face. 

“Oh you sure got me that time Roxy! I was quite bamboozled by that convincing remark! Does your sarcasm imply that you will indeed help me on my quest for fashionable date clothes?”

Your poker face cracks into a smirk despite the raw pain in the middle of your chest. _I can see what Dirk finds so attractive about this kid._ The thought only deepens your fresh wound, so you dismiss it immediately. You ask Jake what he has in mind with regards to “fashionable date clothes” and at the mention of “formal khaki shorts” you realize the situation is much more serious that you’d originally imagined. 

You tell Jake you need to get ready because you’re going to have to go shopping, and he tries to protest because he still doesn’t understand the problem with wearing microscopic cargo shorts on a date. The statement “You’re not fuckin Lara Croft, Jake” falls on deaf ears, and you sigh and shut the door. As you walk to your bathroom, you can practically hear him pouting on his way back to his room and you shudder as he slams his bedroom door. You begin to question your prior attraction to him. _What a petulant child. Dirk’s gonna have his hands full with that one._

Of course, out of the two, you’ve always preferred Dirk. He’s been the love of your life since you first met all those years ago. You briefly entertained a crush on Jake, but he proved to be not only oblivious to your advances, he seemed to passively rebuke you for them. His fear of committing any crime whatsoever (he wouldn’t even accept music or movies that you pirated for him) meant that he would never, under any circumstances, consider partaking in a heterosexual relationship. He did seem generally impressed when you told him that you were a heterosexual, and he didn’t completely discount you when you told him what you had found on those obscure webservers, but he was a bit too much of a goody-two-shoes to ever get with a rebel like you.

Dirk, on the other hand, sees no problem with your sexuality, though he does make fun of you a bit for believing in what he calls your “conspiracy theories” about the planet’s past. He even puts up with (for the most part) your constant advances, flirting, and blatant innuendos. 

You’re not really sure why you do that anyway. On the surface, it would seem that you just like to push Dirk’s buttons, and you feel like it doesn’t do any harm anyway, since he is constantly telling you how much of a homosexual he is. He’s been your best friend for as long as you can remember, and you’ve come to an understanding regarding your relationship. He knows you have feelings for him—though you’re sure he doesn’t completely understand the extent of your affection. 

Somewhere deep within yourself, though, you know that you push the limits with Dirk because you want to pretend that it’s real. You like to imagine that he’s returning your affections instead of just tolerating them. It’s bittersweet, though, because the fantasy always has to end. There’s always a point where it becomes too much, where it gets too weird or Dirk has to actually tell you to stop, and the illusion is popped like an iridescent soap bubble. The shimming little rainbow of hope on the surface of your dream disappears in an instant, and as you fall from your fantasy bubble, the pain of hitting the ground is almost more than you can bear. 

That’s the pain that you’re currently dealing with. You knew that Dirk had a crush on Jake—you’ve known it longer than probably even Dirk. But you never thought he’d actually do something about it—much less that Jake would go along with it. Jake always shrugged off Dirk’s veiled advances, much as he had your own. It had never even occurred to you that they might pursue something together, though it really should have. The four of you don’t have any other friends, so it was all but inevitable that the two homosexual males in your group would end up together—especially when one of them was so infatuated with the other.

You turn on the water and step into the shower, not even checking the temperature first. It’s freezing cold, but you don’t bother getting out. You just stand there in the freezing water, wondering what you’re going to do now. _What if Dirk really is in love with Jake? And what if Jake ends up falling in love too?_ You don’t know if you could handle that. Up until now, you were convinced that Dirk’s obsession with Jake was just that—an obsession, infatuation, puppy love. 

_It’s just a date. Jake will probably do something stupid, awkward, and immature and Dirk will realize what a mistake he’s made. Besides, I bet Jake just said yes so as not to offend Dirk—I don’t think he really has feelings for him like that._ You try to reassure yourself as the water finally warms, and you reach for some shampoo. 

As you’re lathering your hair, gently massaging your scalp, you think about the possibility of Dirk and Jake becoming a real couple. You imagine Dirk coming over all the time—not to see you, but to be with Jake. 

You imagine the possibility of seeing Dirk one early morning, walking to the kitchen in his underwear to get a glass of milk. _In this scenario the two of you meet in the hallway, you in some skimpy teddy with lots of lace, him in skin-tight boxer briefs that highlight his…well, everything. You blush at your mutual state of undress, but he just smiles, and you see his orange eyes twinkle (he’s left his shades in the room). You attempt to walk past him but he grabs you by the waist and you gasp loudly, his hand suddenly over your mouth to stifle the sound. He pulls you close to him, his hands in your hair, and he kisses you so passionately your knees give out and he has to hold you up._

_He picks you up and carries you to your room. You look at him with confusion written all over your face, and he just winks at you like that’s supposed to explain everything. He lays you down on the bed and removes what little clothing you have on, then proceeds to plant slow, sultry kisses from your neck down to your waist. He lets out a small chuckle when he reaches the pink kitten tattoo on your left hip, and you can’t help but giggle too._

_He licks the tattoo playfully, then steadily and deliberately moves his tongue down your hip to your thigh. Your breathing increases exponentially and your gaze is locked on his mouth. You know where he’s going with this, and his movement is so slow, so controlled that you whimper with frustration and anticipation. He glances up at you and a devious smirk spreads across his face. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you, and he’s enjoying it. You begin to squirm so he holds your legs down with his lean but muscular arms, and he stops the movement of his tongue completely._

_You’re biting your lip so hard that you break the skin and it starts to bleed. You lick up the blood, somewhat enjoying the rusty, salty taste of it. His finger traces the path that his tongue took only a moment ago, stopping just short of your sex. Your heart is beating faster than you’ve ever felt it before, and you can feel your pulse throbbing in your most sensitive of areas. He leans back, obviously admiring you, and you pout at him, whining a little. He comes closer to you, and his nose is square in between your thighs. He sticks his tongue out at you, teasing you, mocking your frustration. Ever so slowly, he brings his tongue closer to you, holding your thighs with his hands so you can’t move. Your breathing stops as you wait for him to reach you, and when his tongue finally meets your swollen clit you can’t help but cry out from the subtle yet intense pleasure._

You’re coming, shuddering against the wall of the shower, and everything goes black as you find your release. You’re coming back down to earth when you hear someone—well, the only person it could possibly be—banging on the bathroom door. 

“Roxy! What is taking you so friggin long? I have to meet Dirk in two hours!” Jake yells, now angrier than you think you’ve ever heard him.

 _Shit, how long was he out there? Was I making any noise? And why the fuck is he in my room?_ You thought you had locked the door. 

“I’ll be out in a fucking minute Jake, jegus. Get outta my room!” You manage to yell, though your voice is a bit weak from your orgasm. 

Feeling quite guilty for your recent mental transgression, you finish washing up and quickly get dressed so you can get this whiny little kid ready for the date that you wish were yours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to write about them actually going shopping, but masturbation happened instead. I'm not sorry. More sexiness in the next chapter.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm pleased to finally present you with some DirkJake smut. Let me know if you have any suggestions (especially if there are typos!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This...wow. This took me forever. I think I was getting over my shyness about writing this kind of smut, and also it just...seemed to drag on forever. It's long. I don't know what happened. I swear I'm just a vehicle for this--it's writing itself.

He does his usual “Shave and a Haircut” knock, though you’ve told him countless times to just ring the fucking doorbell. You open the door to see your date, dreamboat Jake English, standing in front of you. He’s wearing a plaid button-up shirt, a blazer, and full-length (thank god) green skinny jeans. He has his head down looking at his brand new sneakers, hands behind his back like he’s a professor about to give a very serious lecture. 

He looks so amazing your heart skips a beat. You stand there with the door open, staring at this gorgeous man who, before today, was just your best bro. Today he is your date, and you feel like the luckiest person on Earth. He looks up at you and those eyes pierce you through, the ones that made you fall for this dork in the first place. He looks apprehensive and you want to comfort him but you can’t move; you’re frozen to the ground. 

You stare at each other for what seems like hours. Suddenly his eyes take on a determination you’ve only seen when he’s deep in the course of an adventure. He steps forward, quickly closing the gap between you and slamming the door shut in one swift movement. Before you can react his lips are on yours, uncertain at first, then hot and desperate with an inexplicable hunger. 

His hands are all over the place. One is in your hair, then on your neck; the other rubbing your back, finally resting on your hip, both hands anchoring you to him. He’s breathing so heavily you think he might need a fucking ambulance, but your head is swimming and soon your breathing is almost as harsh and labored as his. His tongue darts into your mouth and he gasps when he encounters your tongue piercing—something none of your friends knew you had. His shock turns into pleasure and he moans lightly into your mouth, his tongue attacking the metal barbell with a certain zeal. His mouth is devouring yours, your tongues pummeling each other, his teeth on your lips, and you feel yourself drifting away. 

You suddenly realize you’ve made it to your bed, and his lips are still assaulting your own. _How long were we standing there? When did we get here?_ You find your hands unbuttoning Jake’s shirt—you lost your own shirt at some point, along with your shades. _I hope I didn’t put them somewhere they could get damaged._ But as soon as the thought goes through your head you don’t care anymore. You get his shirt open and _Oh god that chest…_ his chest is so perfect—not too muscular but not soft either, lightly tanned, with a faint line of hair down the middle. 

He pushes you down so you’re lying flat on the bed and he climbs on top of you. His lips move down the side of your neck, stopping near your shoulder, right above the collarbone. He bites you, hard. You wince at first, but a moan of pleasure escapes your throat and you realize you love it. _Yep, definitely a masochist._ You’re both panting from excitement and Jake’s fumbling with the button on your jeans. You reach up to undo his, but you pause for a moment to evaluate the situation. 

_Jake English, the man I’m in love with, is sitting on top of me in my damn bed. Today was supposed to be our first date—well, it is our first date—and here we are getting into each other’s pants like a couple of fumbling teenagers._ It’s not that far from the truth; you’re both barely eighteen, and aside from a few awkward attempts with some random guys a couple of years ago, you don’t really have any sexual experience. You start to wonder where this is going, _How far will he take it?_ You’re suddenly anxious and nervous and… 

Jake’s already pulling your pants down—and your boxers with them—when he notices you’re deep in thought. He stops and looks at you with his eyes wide, like a puppy that’s realized he’s done something wrong. You lie there, just looking at him as he returns your gaze, neither of you moving or saying a thing. Your eyes hint at the question— _Are you sure you’re ready?_ He nods almost imperceptibly, biting his lip with those adorable bucked teeth. 

Despite his fervor, you know that Jake has no experience whatsoever, and you’re really fucking worried about taking things too far. You finally regain control over your body and you sit up, grabbing Jake by the shoulders and pushing him down so that your positions are reversed—you’re the one now straddling him. He gasps, shocked, then a giant grin spreads across his face. _He’s more comfortable with this._ You can tell; he never would have had the guts to go through with it without your assistance. _The gallant swashbuckler is no match for the adversary that is sex._ You chuckle at your stupid joke and he looks up at you, pouting, plainly hurt because he thinks you’re laughing at him.

To assuage his fears you smile like a fucking idiot and bend down, planting a kiss on those tender, pouting lips. He tastes of something, possibly a spice of some sort, and it reminds you of autumn—leaves falling, days shortening, and Jane’s famous pumpkin pie. _That’s what he tastes like. Fucking pumpkin pie. Sweet and spicy with a warm earthiness…that is Jake English._ You look into his eyes and he’s smiling again—god, that buck-toothed smile makes you fucking melt. _Okay Jake, let’s see if I can get you to do a bit more than smile…_

You pull off his unbuttoned shirt and throw it on the floor, and you notice your own shirt is there, along with your shades. _I must have been pretty into this shit to leave my shades on the goddamn floor._ You mentally chide yourself, but you know you really couldn’t care less right now. 

You begin kissing him, hard and fast and a little too urgently—though he doesn’t seem to mind. You play with his mouth a little—sucking on his tongue and exploring every inch of his mouth with yours. As your tongue passes over his oversized front teeth, he bites down gently and you whimper. The sensation is not at all unpleasant and you let him continue, his teeth softly grazing your tongue until they reach your piercing. Your breathing stops for a second as his teeth pull on the little ball at the top of your tongue piercing, afraid that he’ll go too far. 

He tugs ever so gently at the tongue ring; his eyes are open, gauging your reaction. He almost stops when he sees the shock on your face. Once you realize he’s not going to hurt you, your eyes start to close, lidded with pleasure, and he continues. He pulls a little harder, his tongue now joining his teeth, and the sensation is indescribable. _Damn, I’m glad I decided to be reckless for once and get this silly thing. I honestly didn’t see what use it would—_ Your thoughts are interrupted by a particularly forceful tug on the jewelry.

“Dirk…” Jake pleads as he releases your mouth from his. This is the first word either of you have spoken for what seems like the hours since his arrival. His vast desire—his need—is written clearly across his face, and you can tell it almost matches your own. You move your mouth to his neck; your tongue gliding across his lightly tanned skin. You dip your tongue into his suprasternal notch, making sure to press your piercing into the hollow, and you hear a low growl emanate from his throat—it’s the most primal thing you've ever heard and it turns you the fuck on. The noises he’s making drive you crazy and you lose your patience, your passion now taking you over completely. 

Your tongue makes a beeline down Jake’s long, firm torso, his skin taut over small, toned muscles. He continues to moan and growl quietly, his eyes shut tighter than one of the many crypt doors you’ve encountered in the ruins behind Roxy’s house. You deftly undo his pants and pull them—along with his little yellow briefs—off with a flourish. He blushes profusely, his face sanguine, as he’s now completely naked in front of you. You sit back on your heels and bask in the beauty of his body for a moment. He whines childishly, embarrassed that you’re staring, and still very much full of need. _He is so damn impatient. It’s fucking sexy as hell._

He looks up at you, his eyes wild with lust and even greener than usual, if that’s fucking possible. You’re hard as fuck and he can tell. Your boner tents your slightly lowered boxers and you remember that Jake had tried pulling your pants off—they’re now sitting awkwardly halfway down your thighs. You get up for a moment and shed the black skinny jeans, tossing them in the growing pile of clothes on the floor. You leave your boxers on for decency and to tease Jake. He whines softly, his eyes fixed on the bulge in your underwear. 

Feeling freer and just a bit exposed, you get back down on the bed and position yourself between Jake’s legs. You lean forward, balancing yourself on his muscular thighs as you come face-to-face with his erection. His cock is—in your opinion—fucking perfect. It’s long but not too thick, smooth and hard and slightly tanned like the rest of his body. You quickly, almost impulsively, lick away the small orb of precum that’s formed on the tip of his dick. The instant your tongue touches him, his eyes snap open and he groans, his back arching slightly. You smirk, wondering at the power you now wield over him. 

You start to lick him gently. Beginning at the head of his cock you move slowly down the shaft until you reach the base, making sure your tongue ring makes full contact with the sensitive underside. His body shivers the whole time, his hands grabbing at the sheets, trying to get a grip on something. His hands are reaching wildly and he puts them up behind him, eventually finding the metal bars that constitute your headboard. He reaches up and grabs onto one of the bars, stabilizing himself. 

You take the same route you just made with your tongue but in reverse, traveling up his length, involving your lips a bit this time. Once you reach the tip again, you proceed take him into your mouth. Your lips glide over the tip of his dick, gradually pulling him in. He hisses a little through gritted teeth, gripping tightly onto the bedframe as he starts to shake again. You push down on his thighs to keep him steady. Your lips are simply sliding down his length, your tongue helping a little, applying feather-light pressure. You can tell by Jake’s pained expression that your slow, soft movements are torturing him—he tries to buck his hips to speed you up but your weight on his thighs prevents that. 

As you get farther down his cock you have to take some of him in your throat. You’ve gotten your gag reflex mostly under control, thanks to a couple hours of practicing on your smuppets. “Mmmmnnnnnh” he whimpers loudly as you take him completely into your mouth—a good portion of his dick is now resting precariously in the back of your throat. His squirming worsens. _Maybe I should have used some light restraints. This kid is all over the goddamn place._ You begin to suck, slowly, making sure he doesn’t move, your lips wrapped tightly around Jake English’s gorgeous dick. He gasps and pants, unable to make any noise. 

Your cheeks hollow as you create a vacuum around him, and you glance up to see his knuckles turning white as he squeezes the bar of the headboard. You’ve never seen him make a face like the one he’s making now, not even during one of your intense wrestling matches. It excites you, your ability to give him so much pleasure, to make him growl and moan and squirm. You need more; you want to see more of the passionate side of Jake. As you’re sucking you pull your mouth up quickly until only the tip is still between your lips. He shudders. 

Keeping your lips vacuum-sealed around his cock, you begin to bob your head up and down, taking him all the way in, then sliding up until you’re almost all the way off. You start slowly, making sure your throat can handle his dick thrusting in and out without much discomfort. Once you’re sure you’ve got your gag reflex completely tamed, you increase your speed—up, down, up, down, fucking him with your mouth, sucking as if he’s an incredibly thick milkshake and his cock is the damn straw. 

The whole time you’re blowing him, he’s panting, grunting, moaning, growling—pretty much any noise imaginable is coming from Jake English’s mouth as you suck him off. His body is undulating like one of those squishy green caterpillars and he removes his hands from the headboard to grab—not very gently—your hair. He pushes and pulls your head, urging you to go faster. You can tell he’s getting close—his nails are starting to dig into your scalp and you’re not quite sure if you’re enjoying it or not. 

All of a sudden you stop, pulling off of him completely. He shivers, crying out, then looks up at you shocked and bewildered. His hands are still in your hair and he tries to pull you back to him, but you shake your head as a sinful smile spreads across your face. You begin to kiss up and down his thighs, removing your hands so that you can kiss every inch of them, avoiding his erection entirely. His legs are shaking beneath your mouth and it’s almost scary how much you enjoy having this control over him, bringing him so close to the edge, then making him wait for it. You glance behind you and see his toes wriggling, clenching and unclenching with his frustration. 

You can’t torment him for long, and you bring your mouth back to his urgently waiting hard-on. You lick him quickly from base to tip, flicking your tongue ring to add to the sensation. His back arches and his hips buck up off the bed as he pulls your hair so hard you think he might’ve taken a few chunks of it with him. “Nnnnnnnggggod!” he chokes out, and you know he’s still dangerously close. 

_Should I drag this out a bit longer, or should I give him his release?_ You ponder to yourself and wonder if, in addition to being a masochist you aren’t a bit of a sadist as well. You aren’t really sure how that works and you definitely don’t care at the moment. You decide you’ve drawn this out long enough—the kid looks like he’s going to die. His hair and face are soaked with sweat, his eyes closed in a look of defeat. 

You plunge back down onto him quickly, and he’s unprepared for the overwhelming pleasure this provides. You’ve barely started sucking him again when he starts twitching uncontrollably, his hands pushing your head down onto his cock, his back arching almost all the way off the bed, and his legs trembling. “FUCK…Diiiiiiiiiiirk!” he yells out, and you have just enough time to suck deeply as he comes, his hot semen shooting down your throat. You suck every last drop from him, swallowing it all. _Damn, even his cum tastes amazing. It’s salty and bitter, but also kind of sweet and spicy, like…like fucking pumpkin pie again. This kid must live off of that shit or something; I don’t know how the taste manages to permeate his whole body._

You slide your lips gently off of him, giving his dick a final kiss on its head. You look up at your lover and see that he’s lying flat on the bed, head turned to the side and body limp in a post-orgasm daze. You smile, bringing yourself up next to him and running your hand through his hair. “Mmmm” he mewls sleepily, his eyes closed. You snuggle up next to him, and he rolls over on his side, letting you mold your body around the curve of his back. You reach down to grab the blanket and you cover the both of you with it, wrapping your arm around Jake’s waist and kissing the back of his head, as you feel his breath deepen with sleep. 

“Sweet dreams, my love. Your prince will be here when you wake.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow that ending was cheesy. It was 11pm and I wanted to just get it over with, I'm sorry. It seriously felt like it wouldn't end so I had to just play the "your time is up" trumpets until they had to walk off the stage, ashamed for taking so freaking long.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which I actually do some plot development and add a new character! Also in which I go crazy because of typing quirks and Pesterlogs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been sitting on my computer for a day and a half because I was avoiding posting it and coding all the freaking Pesterlogs. 
> 
> Also because I'm really afraid I made some typos. So I proofread it like 10 times. But almost all of those times I was really tired. So I probably missed something.

You’re frustrated and drained from your endeavor to find “swanky new duds” with Jake. You consider yourself to be pretty well versed in fashion, but this kid would hardly try on anything you suggested. He said they weren’t his “cup of tea”. You finally forced him to try on some jeans in his favorite color—green—and the process became much easier after he saw how good he looked in them. You managed to get him to buy the jeans along with a white and green plaid shirt, a black blazer, and some sleek black sneakers with skulls on them. It was quite a struggle to get him to wear not only full-length pants, but also footwear other than “adventuring boots”.

Jake just left not ten minutes ago and you’re in the kitchen trying to figure out what to eat for dinner. You still haven’t fully processed this whole Dirk/Jake situation and you just want to repress the entire memory of it. Standing there in your huge, empty kitchen, you realize your feelings for Dirk are a bit stronger than you thought—the idea of him with another person brings up emotions that you didn’t even know you had. Imagining him happy and in love with Jake makes you feel like someone is slowly squeezing your heart, building up the pressure until you’re sure it’ll explode, but it doesn’t. The pressure just stays there, constant, never letting up. It’s not even painful—pain would be more tolerable than this.

You can’t breathe. Your lungs feel like they’re full of heavy liquid, your chest being compressed by the invisible substance, and now it’s surrounding you; you’re submersed in it. You’ve suddenly descended into a pool of sadness. It’s the kind of utter sadness that grabs you by your ankles, forcing you down into the depths with little warning of what’s going on. By the time you even realize where you are, it’s too late. You go to take a breath and get nothing but water. You’re drowning and you didn’t even know it.

You manage to let out a strained sigh, finally ready to give in to the temptation that’s been building recently. You decide on a liquid dinner. You grab a martini glass from the cabinet and pull one of your giant bottles of vodka from the freezer—you like your liquor ice-cold. You’re about to pour yourself a drink when you feel your pocket vibrating—someone is pestering you on your phone. You let out a groan, putting the bottle on the counter next to your still-empty glass, and take a look at your phone.

timaeusTestified [TT] began pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG] at 7:48

TT: Stop it.   
TG: stop wut  
TT: You know what I’m talking about. I know what you were about to do.  
TG: how can u possibly kno wut im doin  
TT: It seems that you are underestimating my innate ability to calculate probabilities within a fraction of a percent.   
TG: ...  
TT: Jake is here with Dirk. He showed up wearing an outfit that is too ridiculously attractive and well put-together for him to have done it on his own. You took him shopping, didn’t you?  
TG: maybe  
TT: And now you’re feeling terrible about the whole thing. You wish you didn’t have to think about the two of them together. You want to chase those thoughts away, so you’re reaching for a drink. Let me guess, high-proof vodka?  
TG: ...  
TG: its none of ur business wut i do when im ALONE in my own house  
TT: You’ve been doing so well. How long has it been? A month?   
TG: i havent had a drink for 6 wks  
TT: That’s really something to be proud of, Roxy. You shouldn’t go throwing it away over two idiot homosexuals.   
TG: wut r they doin anyway  
TG: did they go out 2 dinner & a movie or some shit  
TT: ...  
TT: Not exactly.   
TG: wut do u mean  
TT: They’re still here. I don’t think they’ll be going out any time soon.  
TG: omg wut do u mean  
TG: r they ok??  
TT: I’d say so. More than okay, if my calculations are correct—which they always are.  
TG: srsly wut r they doin  
TT: You don’t want to know.  
TG: wtf r they doin  
TT: I really shouldn’t have said anything. But to be honest, I can’t tell with 100% certainty.   
TT: I’ve ended up on the floor in a heap of clothing.  
TG: oh jegus  
TG: y would u tell me that  
TG: & dont give me that “can’t tell with 100% certainty” bullshit  
TG: i kno u kno  
TG: i cant even handle this rite now  
TT: I’m sorry Roxy. I just had to express my disdain for the situation.   
TT: Jake came in here like a man possessed and spared not a moment seducing Dirk.   
TT: And, fool that he is, Dirk just let him do it.  
TG: great  
TG: u just made my night  
TG: thx a lot  
TT: Cheer up Roxy- you still have me.  
TG: le sign

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] ceased pestering timaeusTestified [TT]

TT: I really am sorry. He shouldn’t have cast you aside so easily...

You put your phone away and stare at the bottle of vodka. Of course Dirk’s responder is right. You’ve come so far; it would be terrible to go back on six weeks of sobriety just because of some stupid boys. _Who the hell knows what they’re doing anyway? They could just be wrestling or playing Twister—or both._ You decide not to worry about it and put the vodka back in the freezer, opting instead for a bowl of leftover macaroni and cheese. It never really tastes as good when it’s reheated, but you always add some butter and Parmesan cheese to liven it up.

You bring the bowl to your room and sit down at the computer, making sure you’re logged out of Pesterchum. You don’t need any disturbances right now. You open up the code you had been working on earlier, the one that would (hopefully) get you through the first layer of the Condesce’s encryption. You continue typing away at it as you chow down on your macaroni—it is one of your favorite foods, after all—until the giant blue bowl is empty and you think you’ve got the code together.

You set the empty bowl aside and execute the code. Nothing happens. You look over it again, checking to make sure all the parentheses, brackets, and semicolons are there. You run it again, and still nothing happens. You even import the file into a code-writing program—you don’t usually like to use those because you feel like it’s cheating—and run an error check. No errors pop up. Getting frustrated, you run the code one more time, and your screen goes black.

A message appears on the screen:

niice try.

You type in a bunch commands to see if you can find a source for the message, but the screen goes black again and more text appears:

ii know what youre tryiing two do.  
iit wont work.

Frustrated and too tired to deal with this bullshit, you press the power button on your computer. It makes an odd beeping noise, then another message appears briefly:

ii dont thiink 2o.

The message disappears and the screen flashes red and blue over and over again for several minutes before finally turning off. You’re about to unplug the computer when it turns back on by itself and lines of strange symbols start filling up the screen. They look like the same symbols you’ve encountered in the Condesce’s systems, and you wonder if you’ve fallen into a trap. You try to stop whatever is happening, but to no avail. The symbols are now halfway down your screen, and you think the punctuation in the commands resembles a coding language you’ve tried a few times but that proved to be largely unsuccessful.

You take out your book on ~ATH and compare some of the commands. They look incredibly similar from what you can tell, since you really have no idea what the alien symbols mean. You’re quite worried that you’ve downloaded a vicious alien virus—the ~ATH language is known to be quite powerful in that respect. The objects come from a large library of tangible things, and the commands can interact with reality. It is a difficult language to work with, though, because it consists of nearly infinite loops. The loops only end when the specified object dies. You know there are some workarounds, but you’ve only been able to come up with one before, and that was a lucky shot anyway.

The code fills your screen and starts scrolling down as more symbols emerge. After a few minutes, it suddenly stops. You back away from the computer, crouching on your bed and remembering what happened the last time someone you know ran a code like this. You wait for what seems like an eternity, peeking through your hands to see if anything is happening. You begin to think the computer is frozen, so you move back towards your desk. You’re almost at the computer when it emits an incredibly loud noise, scaring you shitless and sending you falling back onto the bed.

Again, the screen goes black, and a large symbol appears with a small progress bar underneath it:

♊

You lay back on the bed, grabbing a wizard kitty plushie for comfort, and watch as the loading bar slowly climbs up, 1% at a time. By the time the progress bar reaches 99%, you’re gripping Mr. Abracadapurr so tightly you think he might fall apart. Ages pass and when it finally reaches 100%, you close your eyes and prepare for the worst. When you don’t hear or feel anything different, you cautiously open one eye to peek at the computer.

On the screen is what appears to be a normal web forum, only it’s in that same alien language as before. You move back to the computer, leaving Mr. Abracadapurr in the safety of the other plushies. _This is no time for childish whims._ You chide yourself, then giggle. A program called Trollian—which looks a lot like Pesterchum—opens in front of the forum page. Strangely, the text of this program is in English. A new chat window pops up.

twinArmageddons [TA] began trolling tipsyGnostalgic [TG]

TA: you thiink youre 2o clever dont you.  
TG: idk wut ur talkin bout  
TG: i can barely read wut youre typin  
TA: the 2ame goe2 for you.  
TA: ii know what youve been tryiin two do, and iive been watchiing you for a whiile.  
TG: ...  
TG: wtf who r u  
TA: let2 ju2t 2ay iim an iintere2ted party.  
TG: ok that explains so much  
TG: thx for clarifyin that  
TA: no problem.  
TA: iif there2 anythiing el2e ii can clear up for you, dont he2iitate two a2k.  
TG: ok  
TG: wut did you do to my computer  
TA: iit2 really what you diid two your own computer.  
TG: ...  
TA: diidnt you execute a very long, compliicated fiile a2 a mean2 two try two gaiin access two 2ome very encrypted 2y2tem2?  
TG: yeah but it wasn’t sposed to do this  
TA: well ii iintercepted the 2iignal before iit reached your iintended de2tiinatiion.  
TG: why the hell would u do that  
TA: why the fuck do you thiink?  
TA: iif your code had gone through, there would be droiid2 at your door riight now.  
TA: dont you thiink 2he ha2 her eye out for thiing2 liike thii2?  
TG: i was careful tho  
TG: i always cover my tracks  
TA: not thii2 tiime, you got 2loppy.  
TA: reread your code. iif you cant fiind the mii2take, ii 2houldnt even be helpiing you.  
TG: ...  
TG: omg  
TG: i cant believe i was so stupid  
TG: it must be this awful day ive been havin  
TA: 2pare me the detaiil2, plea2e.  
TA: iive iiniitiiated contact wiith you de2piite my better judgment becau2e ii thiink your plan ha2 potentiial.   
TG: how do u know wut my plan is  
TA: ii told you, iive been watchiing you.  
TG: for how long  
TA: long enough two 2ee that you need my help.  
TG: wut help could you possibly be  
TA: 2ee that webpage that2 open behiind thii2 chat wiindow?  
TA: that2 all the iinformatiion youll need two learn the codiing language2 2he u2e2.  
TG: yea but i cant read it  
TG: plus im p sure that sites fake  
TA: that2 where ii come iin.   
TA: ii can tran2late iit for you.  
TG: ive been on a million different web forums  
TG: & even the most elite hackers in the world cant read that gibberish  
TG: idek where u found that but it cant b real  
TG: only the batterwitch & her troll minions can read that shit  
TG: & there certainly arent any webpages written in it besides the ones on her servers  
TA: how do you know?  
TG: bc ive searched the whole fucking galaxy for answers on this ok  
TG: im p much an expert  
TA: well you cant have 2earched everywhere, otherwii2e you would have found thii2 two.  
TG: so u found it ok mayb i can believe that  
TG: but theres no way u can read it  
TG: youd have to b a troll or somethin  
TA: ...  
TA: well, you fiigured that out 2ooner than ii thought.   
TA: youve actually 2aved u2 a lot of tiime.   
TG: ...  
TG: wtf ur just messin w/me  
TG: there are no trolls anymore  
TG: they all got wiped out  
TG: & the few who didnt, the batterwitch made them work for her  
TA: well arent you liittle mii22 know-iit-all.  
TA: ii gue22 you dont need my help.  
TA: iill ju2t clo2e the connectiion and youll never hear from me agaiin.  
TG: no don’t do that  
TG: look im sorry ok i shouldnt be so quick to judge  
TG: idk wut ur story is but u were obviously able to hack into my computer w/no problem  
TG: & ive got the sickest encryption known to man  
TG: so u must be right about somethin  
TG: or this is just one big practical joke  
TA: ii dont do joke2.  
TA: but iif ii diid ii iimagiine they would be very practiical.   
TG: i dont think u understand the concept  
TG: but that’s ok lets move on  
TA: okay.  
TA: 2o a2 ii 2aiid, ii would liike two help you wiith your mii22iion.  
TA: iin exchange for a favor, of cour2e.   
TG: wut exactly is my mission again  
TG: and wut favor  
TA: your mii22iion ii2 two track her down and kiill her, ii2 iit not?   
TG: maybe  
TG: im lookin for some information before i make that decision  
TA: well you 2hould really con2iider 2ayiing ye2.   
TA: iif you dont, there really ii2 no hope for your 2peciie2.  
TG: wow okay  
TG: ill keep that in mind  
TA: al2o the favor that ii need, iill reveal two you later.  
TG: ok well can i at least get ur name or somethin  
TA: my name?  
TA: iit2 2ollux.  
TG: im roxy  
TG: but im p sure u already knew that  
TA: ii diid.   
TG: okay sollux (im not spellin it with a fucking 2)  
TG: can we get started translatin this shit or wut  
TA: we can 2tart, but thii2 ii2 only the fiir2t of at lea2t 100 page2.   
TA: iit wiill take u2 hour2 ju2t two get through the ba2iic2.   
TG: ive got all night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please guys if you notice any typos in this one, ESPECIALLY WITH SOLLUX'S TYPING QUIRK, please let me know. I'm new to typing quirks so I gave it my best shot.
> 
> Also, that symbol is supposed to be a Gemini symbol and it used to work but now it doesn't show up in Chrome for me? But it shows up in other browsers so just in case it doesn't show up, that's what it is.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few weeks have gone by. Probably. Dirk and Jane meet up for a little heart-to-heart. I guess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me forever to write. I took a long break from writing due to some personal stuff, and in addition to that I just had a really really hard time with this chapter.

You stare at the depressing little baked confection in front of you. The poor excuse for a cupcake—if you can even call it that—stares sadly back up at you, with its little sprinkle eyes and frowning frosting mouth. The whole thing is about to collapse any moment, but you can’t bring yourself to put it out of its misery. 

“It may look a bit silly but it’s completely edible!” Jane calls out to you from the back room. You’re waiting for her to get off work at the bakery she’s apprenticing at, and she’s given you one of the day’s rejects to try.

“This cupcake looks too sad for me to eat. It looks like it wants me to eat it, to put it out of its fucking misery, but I can’t give it what it wants. Eating it would just ruin the irony.” You yell back at her. The cupcake slowly crumbles, tiny pink crumbs falling everywhere and the blue frosting melting and sliding off the top. You scoop it up with a napkin and throw it the garbage, and it lands with a light rustle in a bed of used pastry wrappers.

You look around the tiny bakery, the smell of ultra-sweet baked goods pummeling your nose. The décor leaves something to be desired. Lemon yellow walls with white trim give the place a 1950’s feel. A large glass display case takes up most of the room, with a few cheap plastic booths squished against one wall, which is where you are currently sitting. The bakery has been closed for an hour and you’re the only one there, besides Jane. She has to stay to clean up and to get some pastries ready for tomorrow.

“Jane, what the fuck is this anyway? This isn’t up to your usual standard of culinary excellence.” You ask her, confused by the pathetic little cake that is now resting in pieces in the trashcan to your left. You hear a clattering of pans and Jane says something under her breath. You can’t be sure, but it sounded an awful lot like “Fucking shitbiscuits!” _Jane must be really flustered if she’s swearing like this, though those aren’t the words I would have chosen._  

“Sorry about that, Mr. Strider!” Jane says in a mock-cheerful voice, a smile straining her face as she walks out from the back room. She’s shaking her right hand like she’s trying to swat away a very persistent fly. However, the grimace that’s now on her visage and the patches of scarlet on her fingers tell you she must have burned her hand. She reaches under the counter and pulls out a first aid kit.

“Are you okay, Jane?” You ask, more out of a formality than anything. Jane’s had her fair share of burns, and this one doesn’t seem too bad. She nods, though the pained look is still on her face, and you get up to help her with the latches on the first aid kit. She tries to shoo you away, but you push her aside and open the kit, pulling out some burn cream and bandages. She crosses her arms and taps her foot, outwardly annoyed that you’re helping her, but she reaches out her injured hand when you open up the burn cream and you know she’s secretly appreciative of the assistance.

You finish taping up her hand, putting away the first aid kit and sitting back down at your booth as she goes back into the kitchen. She comes back with a tray of cupcakes, similar to the one she gave you but in much better shape. They’re arranged closely together in a heart, and drawn on top of them is a frosting portrait of Roxy. You try to stifle a gasp as Jane sets the tray down on the table in front of you, her face smiling and expectant. 

Jane sits down opposite you in the booth. “Well, what do you think?” she asks, leaning across the table toward you. She blushes, looking down at her hands in her lap. You flatten your lips together, not sure what to say. Outside, a car pulls up to the stoplight at the corner, the driver blasting their music so loud you can feel the bass vibrating through the thin plastic of the booth. The song is familiar—it’s a remix by one of the Japanese DJs you like. You start tapping your foot and bobbing your head to the beat, singing along to the lyrics in your head.

“Dirk?” Jane asks, trying to get your attention. You snap out of your music daze and lean towards Jane to show that you are listening. She smiles weakly, “I…I thought I would bring these to Roxy today. I haven’t seen her in weeks. I don’t even know what she’s doing. Every time I message her on Pesterchum, she replies with one-word answers, then stops replying for a few days at a time. Have you had any luck getting ahold of her? What has Jake said? He still sees her, right?”

You sigh deeply, your body slouching forward as you exhale. You run your hand through your hair, glancing through the window at the car outside. The driver is about your age, with spiked up blue hair and a few well-placed piercings (that you can see, anyway). You smile a little to yourself— _he’s pretty cute_ —and he catches you looking at him. Your eyes lock for a second; the stoplight turns green. He winks at you and turns the corner, leaving you blushing and a little excited. 

Jane clears her throat loudly. “Dirk! If you’re quite finished checking out the local fauna, I asked you a question!” You turn to look at her and, seeing the annoyance on her face, avert your eyes.

“Jane, I have to admit I haven’t been keeping tabs on Roxy lately. I’ve been a terrible friend to her—I’ve been spending all of my time with Jake and I can’t even remember the last time I saw her. Jake’s been sleeping at my apartment most of the time so he’s barely seen Roxy either. He says she’s in her room pretty much ALL the fucking time, which isn’t really a significant change over the past several months.”

 Jane’s countenance changes from one of annoyance to one of concern. She folds her hands together and rests her chin on them, flinching a little as she accidentally touches her recent burn. “Do you think she’s all right? She hasn’t been on Pesterchum in ages. I’m just worried about her, that’s all!” Jane looks at you in earnest, and you roll your eyes.

 “Are you by chance implying that we should both pay Roxy a visit to make sure she hasn’t suffocated under a pile of wizard cat plushies or something?” You ask, your voice more acrid than you intended it to be. Jane nods enthusiastically, and you sigh loudly. “But you can’t bring those cupcakes,” you say plainly, and her face falls. “Also,” you add, trying to seem nonchalant, “I should mention that I’ve asked Jake to move in with me and he’s accepted. He’ll be moving in this week, so I suppose now is as good a time as ever to tell Roxy the news.”

 Jane blinks, not quite sure how to process the information you’ve just laid down. She sniffs lightly, then smiles her wide, buck-toothed smile and reaches across the table to hug you, almost smashing her precious cupcake masterpiece in the process. “Oh my goodness Dirk, that’s great! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me sooner! I’m so happy for both of you!” She grins so hard you think her cheeks might pop. Then she pauses, as if mulling something over in her mind, and you can see the idea click in her head as her eyes light up. “Now would be an excellent time to ask Roxy if I can move in with her!”

Your jaw drops and you take a moment to pick it up and properly reattach it before you reply, “Jane, I think Roxy might prefer to be left to her own devices. She’s got a lot of work to do, and having you around all the time would be too distracting.”

Jane doesn’t even blink and replies confidently, “Nonsense! Roxy would love to have a companion to spend time with. I can make sure she gets enough to eat and drink and takes frequent breaks, and I’ll make all of her favorite foods and we can do each other’s hair and makeup and stay up late watching movies! It’ll be like a permanent sleepover!”

It’s obvious Jane isn’t going to give up on the idea. You shrug, then slide out of the booth and stand up. “Okay, let’s go. Seriously though, we’re not bringing these fucking cupcakes. “


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get a proper introduction to Sollux, and some drama ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this took me longer to finish than I thought. Mostly because I've been really easily distracted and also because it kept changing from how I had originally wanted to write it. Of course these changes just made it longer and necessitate me adding another chapter that I wasn't planning on, but OH WELL.

“Hey RX—do you have anything to drink besides alcohol and water?” Sollux calls from the kitchen.

“I don’t think so. Check the bottom drawer in the fridge—Dirk might have left some orange soda here a while ago.” You yell back from the makeshift command center you’ve set up in your room. You hear Sollux opening and closing drawers and cabinets, then his footsteps walking down the hall. You look up towards the doorway as he enters the room and ask, “Find anything?”

He shakes his head, sighing, and you see a glass of water in his hand. “When’s the last time you went to the grocery store?” He asks, more annoyed than concerned. “Your refrigerator and cupboards are pretty much empty, except for the freezer full of vodka. Have you even been eating?” This time, his sounds worried. He sits down on the bed and motions for you to sit next to him.

You get up from your computer chair and stretch a bit before walking over to the bed and sitting down next to Sollux. You look up at his face, and he’s frowning the way a parent does when they’re fretting over their child. At least, that’s how you’ve seen it in old movies—you’ve never had real parents, so you wouldn’t really know. You smile and say playfully, “Sollux, you’re here almost every day and most nights—you know I haven’t gone grocery shopping in a long ass time. Am I really out of food?”

For a while Jake was buying the groceries, but he’s hardly ever here now except to pick up some clean clothes. It’s for the better, really, since you don’t want him running into Sollux. 

He pushes a strand of hair away from your face and puts his hand on your shoulder—you’re not really sure if he’s ever touched you like that—and you feel your heart do a somersault in your chest. “RX—Roxy,” he says, in a serious tone you’ve never heard him use before, “you’ve gotta take care of yourself if we’re going to keep going with our plan.”

You look away, not sure how to process Sollux’s sudden concern for your wellbeing. He’s been coming over to the house for weeks, hooking up his laptop to your computer and helping you with the complicated coding languages used in the Condesce’s systems. Most days you end up working late into the night, so he sleeps over on an old air mattress you found in one of the closets.

You have a ton of empty rooms in your house that he could use, but you don’t want to risk Jake running into him, so he’s been staying in your room. Until recently, you haven’t even allowed Sollux to go into the kitchen, thinking it wouldn’t be safe. However, Jake’s been coming home about once a week lately, so you’ve given Sollux a little more free reign in the house.

Up until now, your relationship with Sollux has mostly been a mutualistic acquaintanceship in which he helps you with your coding and you agree to take down the batterwitch with him, in addition to that unnamed favor he mentioned when you first spoke. You’re not sure what it is, and frankly you don’t really care, as long as you get to find the answers you’re looking for.

Now it seems that your relationship may have evolved into something a little different. _Nah, he just wants me to be in my best condition for our big showdown with the batterwitch. He doesn’t really care about me like that…does he?_ You think to yourself, _actually, he’s probably just hungry, that’s why he’s nagging me about food._

“RX—hello? Roxy? I can see your thinkpan going a million miles a minute—what are you thinking about?” Sollux asks, waving his hand in front of your face. You snap out of your daydream and feel your cheeks getting warm.

“Sorry,” you reply quickly, not even sure why you’re so flustered, “You’re right. I’ll go out to the grocery store today.” You think for a moment, then ask hesitantly, “Um, do you wanna come with me?”

Sollux ‘s mouth opens slightly like he’s about to speak, but he just sits there with his mouth partially agape, staring at you as if you had suggested he grow another head. “You can’t be serious RX. You barely let me out of your room for fear that someone will see me, but you want me to go out in public with you?” He asks incredulously.

You run your hand over your head, considering what he’s said. The whole reason you didn’t want Jake or anyone else to find out about Sollux was that you didn’t want to have to explain that you had a half-troll pretty much living with you, not to mention your whole plan to take down the Condesce.

Though, you couldn’t really _tell_ at first glance that Sollux was half troll (the Condesce’s alien race). His skin wasn’t completely grey like the Condesce’s, more of a greyish-tan that looked like he had just used a weird bronzer. His teeth were kind of pointed and he had a pretty bad overbite that caused him to lisp a little, which you thought was pretty cute. He always wore his weird red and blue tinted glasses so you never saw his eyes, but they didn’t appear to be yellow like the Condesce’s. His lips were a deep dark grey, but he could just pass as a goth wearing dark lipstick.

In fact, unless you looked closely at his shaggy black hair, where two small pairs of candy-corn-colored horns were hiding, you couldn’t really tell he was anything but human. He always wears a black hoodie to cover his horns when he’s out in public, but you always forget about it because he never wears it in the house.

You decide you don’t care if you’re seen with Sollux in public, as long as no one identifies him as a troll. None of your friends are likely to be out at the grocery store at this time of day (Jane’s probably working, and Dirk has robots that do the shopping for him). If you run into anyone else you know, you can just tell them that Sollux is a friend visiting from out of town.

“Grab your hoodie,” you tell Sollux, “we’re going to the store.” He looks at you, obviously surprised, but a small smile spreads across his face. He puts on the hoodie and checks his appearance in the mirror. You put on your black lipstick and tease your hair a little, then grab your bag and follow Sollux out into the hallway.

You’re about to open the front door to leave when you hear the doorbell. You and Sollux exchange looks and you peer through the peephole. “Who is it?” Sollux whispers, not wanting to be heard by your visitors outside. The doorbell rings again.

“Fuck,” you say under your breath, then turn towards Sollux, “it’s Dirk and Jane. Jegus knows why they’re here—probably some sort of intervention. They must think I’m drinking again or something because I’ve been ignoring them.” You look through the peephole again to see Jane ringing the doorbell several times in quick succession. You motion for Sollux to hide, and he darts in to the kitchen.

You open the door just a crack. “Roxy!” Jane exclaims, “We were so worried about you! Let us in! We need to talk to you.” Dirk tips his shades and gives you a “what’s up” nod, and Jane tries to push the door open further. 

“Um, actually guys, now isn’t a good time. I’m working on something that’s taking all of my attention and I just really need to focus. Could you maybe come back tomorrow or something?” you say, trying to sound natural.

Jane frowns, trying again to push her way through the door. “C’mon Roxy, why are you being so weird? Just let us in for Pete’s sake!”

“Sorry Jane, and Dirk, thanks for coming by but I just don’t have time for a visit today. Come back tomorr-“ you try to say, but you’re interrupted by a giant sneeze from the kitchen.

Jane raises her eyebrows. “What was that?” she asks suspiciously. “Who sneezed? Do you have someone in there with you?” Dirk just stands there, clearly uninterested.

“Ahhh-ahhhhh-ahhhhhhhhhchooooooooooooooo!” you fake, then sniffle a bit and pretend to wipe your nose. Dirk stifles a laugh. “I think I’m getting a cold actually, I don’t want to get you guys sick, maybe come back next week!” you say quickly as you try to shut the door. Sollux sneezes again, louder this time.

Jane stops the door with her foot. You can tell Dirk is rolling his eyes. “Not so fast Lalonde.” She grabs the door and pushes it open, trying to push her way past you. You keep her outside, but just barely. “Who’s there?” she calls angrily into the house. Sollux sneezes once, twice, three times more and you turn your head just in time to see him backing out of the kitchen, your army of mutant kittens lead by Mutie chasing after him.

You look at Jane, terror written across your face. Jane looks just as shocked, if not more so, and she gasps loudly. Dirk finally joins the party and peeks his head in. “What’s up, bro?” he asks casually. You forget about the front door and Dirk and Jane walk slowly into the house, Jane staring at Sollux like he’s a wild animal and Dirk trying not to giggle as he watches both of your horrified faces. Sollux continues to sneeze, looking at you for a cue about what to do next.

Sollux saves himself, though. Walking towards the front door, a friendly smile on his face, he waves at Dirk and Jane. “Sorry,” he says, “I’m RX—Roxy’s—coding buddy Sollux. I have a bit of a—ahhhh—ahhhhhchoooo! A bit of an allergy to cats.” He explains, trying to shoo the cats away. You just stare at him, dumbstruck.

_Of course,_ you think, _Sollux is allergic to cats. He never had a problem in my room when it was just Frigglish and sometimes Mutie, but with all the kitties here at once, his allergies must be going crazy. It’s just fuckin lucky he’s got the hoodie on._

Jane looks at you accusingly and you know what she’s thinking—how could you not have told her about Sollux? Why didn’t you introduce them? Who is he? Is he living with you? Dirk just smiles. “I’m Dirk and this is Jane,” says Dirk, holding his hand out for Sollux to shake, which he does. Jane just stares.  

You finally manage to regain your wits. You shoo the cats down the hall and turn back to Dirk and Jane. “So like I said, um, we’re pretty busy with coding and stuff right now so maybe you should come back tomorrow?” you suggest, trying to push them back out the door.

Dirk takes the hint and starts walking out, turning around to wave at Sollux. “Nice meeting you, bro. Bye Rox,” he says, and he gives you a wink. You wonder if he thinks Sollux is hot.

Jane grabs Dirk’s arm and glares at you. “Stop Dirk. We’re not going anywhere. You, missy, owe us some answers, and we’re not leaving until we get them!” Jane yells, poking you in the chest with her finger. She pushes you into the living room. “Sit down. You’re not going anywhere until you tell us what the hell is going on with you.” Sollux tries to sneak quietly back to your room. “Not so fast mister!” Jane yells at him. He winces and turns around to face her. “Sit down. You’re going to give us some answers too.”

Sollux sits down next to you on the couch. Dirk takes the poufy armchair to your left. Jane stands in front of all of you, hands on her hips. “Now, talk.” She orders. You and Sollux both inhale deeply. Dirk groans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to figure out if I should write the next chapter from Sollux's point of view, which would probably be easier for giving key info about his backstory, but I had really only wanted to switch between Dirk and Roxy when I started writing this. Well, everything else I had planned to do keeps changing so why not this. What do you think--will it be too confusing to switch to Sollux's POV now?


End file.
